Kidnapping case
by T'Kerstin
Summary: A mysterious kidnapping case leads Sherlock to more than just the kidnapper. This is my first Sherlock fic. Let me know if you like it. Slash might come later
1. Chapter 1

I edited and changed a few things in the story but its content is still the same.


	2. Chapter 2

**Kidnapping case**

"What are you doing now?" John asked when he found Sherlock in the kitchen. Sherlock was standing in front of the oven, and had a concentrated look, John wasn't really sure he liked in the current situation.

"An Experiment," was the short reply.

Before John could add anything to that, Sherlock's cell phone vibrated with an incoming text. After reading it, Sherlock walked out of the kitchen, grabbed his coat, and was out of the door.

A few months earlier this kind of behavior would have annoyed John. Now he just grabbed his jacket, too, and followed Sherlock without as much as thinking about it. _And Sherlock knows that. He didn't even ask if I want to come with him._

John reached the cab just in time.

Once they reached the crime scene Sherlock rushed off to investigate, leaving it to John to greet the DI.

"Still not changed, hasn't he?" Lestrade asked John with a smile.

"Why would he?" John asked back. He didn't want Sherlock to change. _Why do people always want him to change?_

When it became clear that Lestrade didn't have an answer to that, John walked over to Sherlock, who was walking around the room. But he didn't tell them what he thought just yet.

"Who's the murderer?" Anderson asked.

"What makes you think there is a murderer?" John asked, before Sherlock could say something stupid.

That question surprised everyone, including Sherlock, who turned around, with something akin to pride in his eyes.

Lestrade watched him and John with amazement. It was clear to him that Sherlock was head over heels for John. But it was equally clear to him that neither John nor Sherlock were aware of it.

"You're learning. This isn't a murder. It's a kidnapping," Sherlock finally answered.

"What makes you say that?" asked Lestrade.

"Really? You can't even see that?" Sherlock asked in return.

"I found a note," John interrupted, and handed it over to Sherlock.

"There you have it. Now all we have to do is, following the orders, and then you can have your kidnapper," Sherlock told Lestrade after he had read the note.

"And who is it you'd like to send?" Lestrade asked him.

"This person has a friend who is described here," Sherlock told him.

Lestrade read the description, handed the note back to Sherlock, and frowned, when he was looking at John, who had once again taken his place in the background.

"Are you sure this isn't a trap? The description of the friend fits someone we both know. Could be a trap. Could be an enemy of yours, Sherlock." Lestrade looked Sherlock directly in the eyes when he told him that. He cared for John, but he also feared what might become of Sherlock should he lose the one anchor in his life he had finally found.

"Please. Yes, John looks similar to the person described here, but that doesn't make it a trap," Sherlock answered.

"This could really be anyone. I've read the description. I'm not the only one who is small, you know," John intervened.

What followed was a heated discussion between Sherlock and Lestrade about who should play the bait. For John it had been clear from the beginning that it would be him, but Lestrade thought it too dangerous for a civilian to take such a risk. Sherlock was too caught up in the rush of the case to be talked down, which led to the inevitable outcome that Lestrade backed down.

The kidnapper hadn't made any other orders than to meet the friend of the victim (they still didn't know the name of the victim which was somewhat strange in John's opinion). As the meeting was supposed to take place the following day, Lestrade said goodbye to John and Sherlock for the time being, and watched them go away.

"I've never had a kidnapping case like this," Donovan commented who had been uncharacteristically quiet the entire time.

"Me neither. But this is just the thing Sherlock loves. And I hope we aren't putting John in any danger," Lestrade answered. "See if you can find out the name of the victim somehow," he added after he had thought for a moment.

oOo

"Did you change your mind?" Sherlock asked John the other day. He had noticed that the other man was tense, and quiet.

"No. I'm just nervous, Sherlock. It's not every day that I am playing the bait for a kidnapper," John answered.

"So you did change your mind," Sherlock insisted.

John sighed. He had no idea why the very man, who could deduce other people's intentions in seconds, could be so wrong about him. Slowly, he turned around to Sherlock, and answered: "I am doing it. Being nervous will make sure that I won't get reckless, and do something stupid. It makes be more careful."

"Why would you want to be careful?" Sherlock asked. He found it logical that he himself wanted John to be careful for reasons he wasn't ready to admit to himself yet. But why would John want to be careful on his own accord?

"To stay alive," was John's answer.

Before Sherlock could ask another question Lestrade arrived at Baker Street, and gave John the final instructions. Through an earplug John would be able to hear what the police was talking, and through a tiny microphone the police would be able to hear what was happening around John, as well. Sherlock watched the two men getting ready.

"You ok, John?" Lestrade asked him. The man seemed too quiet, even for him.

"A little nervous. That's all."

"Right. That's a good thing. I would have been concerned if you hadn't been nervous," Lestrade answered, and cast Sherlock a glance to stay quiet.

The drive to the park, where John was supposed to meet the kidnapper wasn't long. Once everybody was on their post, Lestrade gave John a sign to go to the meeting point.

Slowly John walked to a bench, and sat down. He didn't have to wait long until a man in a dark jacket joined him. At first he just looked at John. But then he asked him: "So you are this friend I wanted to see?"

John nodded. He didn't dare to say anything more, because he just didn't know enough. As it turned out the man didn't expect John to say anything. Before John could do anything, he felt something on his neck (_the needle of an injection_, he was still able to think). But he didn't get unconscious, like he had expected. Instead he became paralyzed, and completely helpless, when the man put him into a plastic bag, and carried him to a car. He heard the engine starting, and then he lost consciousness.

oOo

Sherlock was watching from his hiding place. It was hard for him that he couldn't play the bait himself. He watched when John sat down on the bench. His posture told him that John was growing more nervous with every passing second. Why John and Lestrade thought this was a good thing was beyond his understanding. _Probably something of those social conventions that are so important to people, _he thought. Before he could think further, his cell phone vibrated.

_Stay out of this. -MH_

_Why? -SH_

_Information is confidential. But there are dangerous people at work. -MH_

Before Sherlock could write something further, he saw that John was suddenly missing. _Damnit, Mycroft! __he thought. Why didn't you prevent this? You have your eyes everywhere._

"Lestrade. What happened?" Sherlock asked, seeking for John while he did so.

"I don't know. Suddenly he fell to the side, the man packed him into a bag, carried him into a van, and drove off. We are following the van already," Lestrade summed up.

To Lestrade's surprise Sherlock didn't answer but began typing on his cell phone. But like usually he didn't let Lestrade in on what he was thinking or doing.

_You better tell me what is happening here. -SH_

_Don't tell me you are planning on playing the bait. -MH_

_No -SH_

_Good -MH_

_John was. Now he is kidnapped. -SH_

_Stay where you are. I am coming. -MH_

Mycroft hadn't asked where he was. But Sherlock suspected that Mycroft was tracking his phone 24/7 to make sure he didn't get into trouble. For once in his life this was an advantage.

oOo

When John gained consciousness he was in a dark room. It was so dark he couldn't see a thing. The first thing he noticed was, that he could move again. Not that this was a great reassurance. If the kidnappers (he was fairly sure there more than one) didn't bother to tie him, he wouldn't have a chance of escaping. His earplug and microphone were gone, of course. As was his phone. John sighed. He obviously was dealing with professionals here. And he wasn't sure he was able to handle that.

Then a sound startled him out of his thoughts. Someone was coming, and John prepared himself for whatever unpleasant thing this someone might have planned for him. Unfortunately the man didn't show himself.

"You know why you are here, don't you?" the man asked him.

John remained silent.

"Stubborn, are you? I guess you are a friend of Mycroft?"

_This isn't about Sherlock? That's a first._ John thought. Loud he said: "I have met him."

"You work with him. But I didn't expect you to tell me much at this point. You guys are trained not to tell anything, after all. But don't worry. In the end you will tell me everything."

With that the man left, and John's mind was trying to keep up with events. This whole kidnapping thing (had there really been a kidnapping prior to his own?) had obviously been a trap for Mycroft, because of something he was working on. How this all had ended in the hands of a normal DI of Scotland Yard was beyond John's knowledge. But he was sure that whatever it was what he was dealing with now it would be too big. Even for Sherlock. Sherlock was able of many things, but he couldn't start a one man war against a big criminal organization to get him out. _Does he even want to?_ John couldn't help this thought. He knew Sherlock cared more than people gave him credit for, but how much, he didn't know. And this was a very bad situation to find out.

John had no idea how long he already was in this dark room when the man returned, and pulled him to his feet. He was led through much too bright corridors to another room where they tied him to a chair.

"Are you still sure you only have met Mycroft Holmes?" the man asked him again.

"Yes."

"Too bad. Well, we have to this some other way then. I am sure you have heard of torture?"

John nodded. Of course he had. But what exactly was the man planning? He couldn't help but getting a little afraid now. Whatever was going to happen for him, he was sure he'd end up dead sooner or later, if he couldn't answer questions to the man's satisfaction. And that was something he couldn't do, because he knew absolutely nothing what Sherlock's brother actually did. Not that anyone would believe him.

oOo

Like Sherlock expected it didn't take long for Mycroft to arrive at the scene. And , like usually, Mycroft didn't waste time with chit chat but came straight to the point.

"Sherlock. What do you mean, John was playing the bait? You are too keen to do those things yourself."

Lestrade came to them, and showed Mycroft the note they had found in the flat the day before. He didn't know who Mycroft was by name, but he could see that Mycroft was working for the government. And that usually meant trouble.

"I see. And John agreed to this? Or did you drug him again?"

Lestrade was a bit surprised that Sherlock knew someone working for the government. But from the look of it, Sherlock didn't really seem to like the man. But the man would be able to get John back. Otherwise Sherlock wouldn't have called the man.

"Just tell me what you know, Mycroft. I need to find him." Sherlock's patience was getting thin.

"I already told you that this case is too much for you to handle. Let me handle it."

"Do you know who you are talking with? Sherlock doesn't listen to anyone," Lestrade cut in.

Before Mycroft could answer, Anthea came with bad news: "Mr. Holmes. We can't track his phone. The last time it was connected was a few miles in northern London."

"There are two of you?" Lestrade couldn't believe his ears. One Holmes was difficult to handle, but two?

"Obviously. And you were wrong with your remark that my brother doesn't listen to anyone. It has come to my attention that he does, occasionally, listen to John. Now. It is best for you two to go home, and let me handle it," Mycroft answered.

"I won't do that. I will find him, Mycroft," Sherlock objected. He was sure that his homeless network would prove much more valuable in finding secret hiding places than the MI6 and the MI5 together, or whatever organization his brother was working with at the moment.

Mycroft eyed his brother suspiciously. It suddenly seemed to him that Sherlock really cared about John. That was something he wasn't prepared for. He had already accepted the fact, that his brother wasn't capable of caring. But apparently, he was. And he had chosen John, one of the most ordinary people he had ever seen.

"You really do care for him," he stated.

"That's the understatement of the year. The two love each other. They just don't see it yet," Lestrade answered for Sherlock, who shot him an angry look in response, but didn't say anything. Finding John was more important than a discussion whether he had or had not feelings for his blogger.

"What do you intend to do?" he asked Mycroft.

"We cannot do anything at present. Just wait until the kidnapper contacts us. And he will, Sherlock."

"Kidnappers," Sherlock corrected before he turned to Lestrade: "Did you hear something?"

"Nothing. I suppose they got rid of it the moment they imprisoned John," the DI answered, still a little in shock that he had to work with two Holmes.

"What did you do?" Mycroft asked.

"John had a microphone and an earplug, so that we could hear what was going on, and that he could hear us," Lestrade answered.

Mycroft shook his head, and went off to see what he could do. There was a lot at stake there. The safety of John Watson and the country. And he had to keep an eye on Sherlock. Despite all his abilities, Sherlock just wasn't able to track down a criminal organization, and free John Watson on his own. But Mycroft knew Sherlock well enough that Sherlock would try nevertheless.

oOo

Like John had expected the man hadn't planned anything nice for him. But it was still better than what he had imagined. He was beaten for a few moments, and when he still didn't say anything, they locked him into the dark room again, which John found much worse than the hitting. He'd have his share of that with Sherlock after all.

"They questioned you?" John suddenly heard a woman asking him.

"Yes. Are you the one they kidnapped in the flat?" John asked.

"I am. But you are no coworker of Mycroft's." It wasn't a question.

"So it is about Mycroft?" John asked. He didn't know if he should be relieved that for once Sherlock hadn't done anything stupid, or worried what kind of enemies Mycroft had made.

"You know him?" The woman sounded surprised.

"I met him. But the men seem to think I work for him, which, as we both know, I don't," John answered.

"So you ended up in here, because I invented a friend so randomly looking that it could have been anyone. Bad luck, I'm sorry." John wasn't sure he really had ended up in this room purely on accident. But the woman was already talking again: "How do you know there's more than one of them?"

"One carried me to the car, but there must have been at least one more to drive the car. Who are you? An agent?" It had become very clear to John, that the woman, wasn't just a kidnapping victim. No one working with Mycroft really was, because Mycroft only employed the best, which led to the conclusion that whatever that woman was doing for a living, she had to be damned good at it.

"You're not stupid. Neither are you afraid. I give you that," she answered after a few moments of silence. She had been afraid to be locked in with an overly afraid person, but that didn't seem to be the case. The man was calm, and could still think straight. This made things a little easier.

"Did they take your phone?" she asked him suddenly.

Before answering her question John searched his pockets. Against all odds he hoped he would find it in one of his pockets. Unfortunately his phone wasn't in any of them. "No," he answered, "but you didn't really expect me to, did you? That's professionals we are dealing with here."

"Even they make mistakes sometimes. It was worth a try," she answered.

After that, they remained silent. There wasn't anything left to say. John was still wondering why they tried to use him to get to Mycroft, and not the woman. Surely she was of much more value to Mycroft than him. He himself hadn't met Mycroft that often, even if Mycroft seemed to appear whenever he had the feeling that Sherlock could use his help (which Sherlock denied every time).

It was a surprise for both of them when they were brought upstairs into the same room John had been questioned before. Apparently, the kidnappers had come to the conclusion that John would be of no help to get from Mycroft whatever they wanted.

The men were tying the two of them on chairs, and left them alone for a while. But not long enough for John to get used to the light.

When the men came one of them had John's phone in his hand. The woman gave him a look that confirmed what John had been thinking, too: the game was finally on, and either he or the woman (John still didn't know her name) had to tell Mycroft what it was the men wanted in return for their safety.

"You both know what happens next. As it is his phone, it is fair that he makes the call." John was handed the phone, and dialed Mycroft.

"Tell him that he knows exactly what we want," the other man said.

Before John could say anything, another voice came to his ear: "And don't forget to tell him that I promised to burn the heart out of him. That promise still stands."

John would recognize that voice anywhere. It made him freeze for a moment. Now he knew that nothing would stop Sherlock from hunting the men down. All because of one man and one sentence.

oOo

The moment Mycroft heard his phone ringing, he gave his people a sign to track the phone. It was John's number.

"Yes?"

The first few moments nobody answered. But he did hear some voices in the background. Then John finally said something: "They say you know what they want. You have to give it to them tomorrow."

John stopped talking. Mycroft was just about to hang up, when John started speaking again. But he sounded concerned,even afraid: "Tell him that he intends to keep his promise about burning the heart out of him." After that, John really hung up.

Mycroft couldn't make any sense out of John's last words, but he knew someone who could. What concerned Mycroft the most was the fear he had heard in John's voice. The man wasn't easily frightened.

_Are you at Baker Street? -MH_

_Yes. Why? -SH_

_Stay there. Need to talk to you. -MH_

After his men had given him a recording of the phone call, he made himself on the way to Baker Street. Sherlock wasn't really in the mood to talk to him when he arrived but he let him in. It didn't take long for Mycroft to see why. Sherlock looked like he hadn't slept in days, like he had worked to get John back. But for once in his life Mycroft didn't comment on it.

"Listen to this," he told him, and handed Sherlock the recording of his phone call with John. Sherlock didn't show any reaction at all until he heard John's final sentence. And then it was the strongest reaction Mycroft had ever seen on him connected to another person. _Looks like Lestrade is right, and my dear brother really is in love._

"What is it?" he asked him.

"Moriarty"

"Who?" he pressed further.

"Don't be stupid. The one John and I met at the pool," Sherlock answered. "I should have known he is behind all this. It just wasn't possible that John got caught in all of this on accident."

"I remember. Well, it seems that they have joined forces to get to both of us. But it is clear, that I won't give them what they want."

"What about John? We can't just let him there. If it is really Moriarty then we have to get him out, or he will be killed," Sherlock objected.

"Not to mention that you want to outsmart him. Well, one of our agents is missing as well, and my guess is that John is imprisoned together with her. Together they should find a way to stay alive. You heard that John said 'us' right?" Mycroft was close to shaking Sherlock to his senses.

"Of course I heard. Are you saying that we should work together? Never. I am better on my own."

"That is exactly what I'm saying. If you don't want to do it for me, fine. But would you do it for John? Together we can get him out sooner." Mycroft played his last card to get Sherlock cooperating with him. To his great surprise, he succeeded, and Sherlock nodded in agreement.

It didn't take long for the kidnappers to realize that it wasn't that easy to get what they wanted. That Mycroft wasn't that easily scared enough to back down.

That much was clear when the door to the room was opened again. John could hear that the woman was walking towards the door. He himself felt better where he was: sitting against a wall. Days, he was sure it had been several days, without food and something to drink, made John feel a little weak.

"It seems that Mycroft needs a little encouragement to deliver us what we want. So, you will come with me, and we will find a way," the man told them. He didn't say who he meant, but with Moriarty involved it wasn't difficult to guess who would have to come with them.

So, before the man could drag John to his feet, he stood up on his own. His legs were a bit unsteady, but he could manage.

The Woman, laid a hand on his arm, and whispered: "Be careful. I don't have good feeling about this. And my name is Andrea." John just nodded. He finally had a name. It probably wasn't her real name, but Mycroft's employees never told him their real names, it seemed. Anthea was a good example for that.

By now John's sense of direction could tell him that they led him to the same room he had been in the two times before. They even tied him to the same chair. But the similarities ended there. Another man approached him with injections in his hands. There were three of them, and John had a feeling that whatever it was they were planning to inject him, wouldn't do him any good. _God knows what could be in them. I just hope they know what they are doing._

"You know what is coming, do you? This gentleman here," he pointed at Moriarty who had just appeared out of nowhere, "has told us that you are a Doctor."

John didn't answer the question. It wouldn't have made a difference, anyway. These men had no scruple at all. All he could do at this moment, was to prepare himself for whatever drug they would inject them with.

The injection hurt more than was necessary. But what did he expect? What caught him off guard was the fact, how fast the drugs began to work. It couldn't have been more than a few minutes when his vision became blurry. Soon after that he felt dizzy, and had trouble staying conscious. He didn't really notice when they carried him back to Andrea, who laid him gently on the cold floor. She said something to them. But John couldn't understand what it was, and he didn't really care. He was too busy trying to stay conscious. He knew that the longer he stayed conscious the longer he would survive this treating. But that wasn't easy.

oOo

Neither Mycroft nor Sherlock made any progress in finding the location of John and Mycroft's employee. Mycroft, who was used to slow developments, did take it easily, but Sherlock was slowly losing his patience. He wanted his blogger back, as he had told Mycroft one evening.

Before they could get at each other's throats, though, came another call from the kidnappers. Mycroft's phone was overheard at all the time, and Scotland Yard was tracking all calls coming to his phone. That had been a compromise Mycroft had had to make (not before instructing Anthea to tell everyone not to call him). Normally he wouldn't have made this case his priority, as Andrea was perfectly capable of taking care of herself. But Sherlock had insisted, surprising Mycroft with the fact, how deeply Sherlock cared for his flat mate. And he would do anything to keep Sherlock happy. An unhappy Sherlock was too likely to take drugs again.

"Hello Mycroft! We have come to the decision that you need a little encouragement to give us what we want."

Mycroft turned his phone to speakers to make Sherlock able to listen. But he didn't say anything. The man hadn't expected one anyway. He already started speaking again: "We have drugged the man. And will continue to do so until you give us what we want. Surprisingly, his system reacted faster than we had anticipated. You might want to hurry if you want to get him back alive."

The call was ended, Mycroft was calling Scotland Yard, and asked for the location of the caller. Sherlock was pacing in the room, trying to figure out what he had missed, where he had been wrong (he had to have gotten something wrong; otherwise he would have found John long ago).

"Sherlock! Calm down! they have tracked the signal down to an abandoned industrial area in North London. We will find them in no time," Mycroft had to shout for Sherlock to listen to him.

"Good! I will ask my network if they have seen something unusual."

"Your homeless network doesn't have the equipment to find them, Sherlock."

"But they still know things you don't. They are better at blending in. Besides, they use areas like this for shelter. Someone will have noticed something."

With that Sherlock rushed off to meet with his people from what he called the "Underground Network".

_Sherlock's off talking to his network. -MH_

_These people come in handy sometimes. Wait if they know something. -L_

_You actually trust them? -MH_

_Sherlock does. -L_

Mycroft sighed. He couldn't understand why Sherlock trusted these people. But apparently Lestrade had already made the experience that in some cases these people did know something he didn't. Impossible as that seemed.

oOo

Sherlock rushed off to meet some of the people from his Homeless Network. He was glad he could finally do something, and was sure he would have found John within the same day. Homeless people knew a lot more about the going ons in the city than either Mycroft or Lestrade gave them credit for. The men told him that one of the buildings in the area Mycroft had already pinpointed was locked up. None of them had been able to get in there for the last days.

"That's it. Come with me. We might be able to distract them," Sherlock told them.

Eager they followed him to North London. Sherlock smiled, and felt hope for the first time in days. It wouldn't be long until he had his blogger, and friend back. Though he was still somewhat surprised that he cared so much about John. In theory he knew that he had fallen in love with John, but _Sherlock Holmes doesn't fall in love, _he thought. _Or does he?_

_I found them. Heading there now. -SH_

_Where? -MH_

_Tell you when it's over. Don't need you or L to snoop around. -SH_

It didn't take them long to find the house where Sherlock suspected Moriarty and Mycroft's enemy held John and that woman prisoner. One look at the house told him that this was indeed a house where someone was hold prisoner.

The homeless spread out around the building to distract all the guards while Sherlock sneaked into the building. He had to find John as soon as possible, because he didn't know how much drugs they had given John. But too much could kill him.

Sherlock soon came to a room where he heard hushed voices. One of them was Moriarty. He went closer to listen to everything they said to each other.

"He still doesn't give it. He just doesn't care about other people," one of the men complained.

"Sherlock will persuade him sooner or later. He won't risk the life of him." Even if he didn't say the name Sherlock knew that Moriarty had meant John. It seemed like he had arrived just in time. He sent a text with the address to Lestrade, and hoped that he would take somewhat intelligent people with him.

"Let's hope he does. We could reach the point of an overdose soon. I don't want to kill the man," one of the men answered. Sherlock had heard enough. As fast as possible he searched for the way to the cellar where he guessed that Andrea and John were kept captive.

oOo

Andrea wasn't a doctor but she did her best to keep the man conscious. She just didn't know for how long she would be able to do that. The man was drifting more and more into unconsciousness, and there wasn't anything she could do about it. It didn't seem fair to her that she, a highly professional when it came to dealing with criminals, would come out of this unharmed while the man, a complete innocent, and not connected to Mycroft (as far as she knew at least) would have to die, if nothing happened within the next few hours.

It was then that she heard a noise at the door. Carefully she laid the man down, and positioned herself behind the door. She would make an escape attempt now to save the life of an innocent person.

To her surprise it wasn't one of the kidnappers. But it wasn't Mycroft, or one of his men, either. It was a tall man with black curls, who didn't even look at her, but ran straight to John.

"John! Stay with me!" he told the semi conscious man on the floor.

His voice achieved what Andrea had tried for hours. The man opened his eyes, and locked them on the man.

"Sherlock," he managed to say.

"Don't leave me now. Not after I figured out what it is that I... experience around you." Sherlock almost begged now.

"What is that?" John seemed to mobilize his last strength to bring these words out, Andrea thought. But it seemed to be the one thing Sherlock needed to calm down a little.

Sherlock took his hand, and whispered: "This simple feeling, John."

It took John a few moments to figure out what Sherlock meant, but apparently these two knew each other well. Otherwise John couldn't possibly have understood what Sherlock had meant. Andrea certainly didn't understand it.

"Excuse me, but I think, we'd better get out of here before they find us," she interrupted them.

Sherlock looked at her for the first time, and nodded. Together they went upstairs, John in Sherlock's arms. To Andreas's surprise no one saw them.

Once outside the house she couldn't see anything, because she had been in that dark room so long. But she heard police cars everywhere. Now she understood why no one had tried to hinder their escape. Sherlock, apparently, had called the Police before he had entered the house.

oOo

Half an hour later Sherlock said beside John's bed, and waited for him to wake up. From what the doctors had told him, John had been brought to the hospital just in time. A few hours later and he had been beyond help. The doctors had given John a few injections, and now it was up to John's body to decide whether he wanted to live or not. Had it been up to Sherlock John would already be up on his feet and chasing criminals around the city.

"It isn't that simple, you," John suddenly told Sherlock.

"What?" John had surprised Sherlock. A thing not many people were able to do, but a thing that John managed to do more than once.

"This simple feeling you were talking about," John smiled at him.

"So, you have the same feeling, yes?" Sherlock asked him.

"Of course, you idiot. Seriously, you have the greatest mind of London, and still you can't deduce a simple thing like feelings," John teased him.

Sherlock decided it was time to shut him up, and kissed him. This time it was John who was surprised, but he kissed back.

"The greatest mind of England," Sherlock added as an afterthought.

When they broke the kiss, both men smiled at each other. Both felt at home, safe, loved, needed. Nothing in the world could separate them.

It was Mycroft, of course, who entered the room just then, to tell them that Moriarty had escaped but all the others had been put safely into prison with the highest security England had to offer. When neither Sherlock nor John answered, he decided it was best to leave them alone. But he didn't really understand what had happened between them. Just that their relationship had changed.

_You might want to take your cameras in the flat offline. -SH_

Now Mycroft understood what had happened.

END


End file.
